Letters
by Istalindar
Summary: A series of four letters expressing lovers reactions to the war. They're all ship, but how you pair them or if you do is up to you.
1. Faith, Ginny

These are a series of letters I wrote one night. They are all shippy, but how you pair them is up to you. These are for Harriet, who saw the original letter I wrote for The Choice, and encouraged me to write more. So here they are. Tell me, as always, what you think. Istalidar

&

I never thought of us as lucky – right from the beginning, we were doomed. You were who you were, and I … I was never in the right place at the right time. And you knew what you had to do, and you couldn't risk me, couldn't risk my heartache.

This war smashed everything. All our families, all our friends, torn apart before they had a chance to understand how happy we all truly were. Even the fights in the hallways, do you remember? It was a sign of how happy we were, that we could get mad over losing points. These days, we wouldn't have time to get mad over that, we're too busy worrying about the next crisis.

We're nothing unique, you and I, just another set of young people in love who are smashed together like surf on the rocks and then torn apart with the retreating tide. It's happened to everyone, my siblings, my friends…at night, when I miss you too much to cry about us, I cry about them. About how they could have been so perfect, about how there could have been such adorable children running around, with so-and-so's eyes and so-and-so's mouth. I want you back here with me, have done since the time when you finally admitted that maybe we could be together.

We were happy.

I take comfort in that, and in the idea that maybe, at some time, this war will be over, and we'll be together, and you'll love me and I'll love you and all my friends will crash together like the sea on the rocks but they'll hold on, and cling together like shipwreck survivors, and maybe, just maybe, we'll rebuild our world.

I have faith in you, and in us.

Ginny.


	2. Realities of War, Harry

&

These days, there's always fighting. I rarely have time to remember us, remember the perfect way we were, like my parents in that old photograph. We even went to the old fountain in autumn, swung around like that and only realised afterwards how much we copied them.

Accidents in love, that's what we were.

When the rain's falling, I remember you dancing. At the balls, before this, in your dress robes, the way you'd painstakingly done your hair, made sure you looked perfect before you ventured out. And you always did, you always did.

We weren't perfect, but who is? I know that I was in love with you, loved you with all I had, and that maybe you loved me too…sometimes, sometimes I'd lie awake at night, and know you dreamed of someone, but somehow I wasn't sure it was me.

And I'm too much of a coward to ask.

But during the day you were mine, and we were young and in love, and perhaps one day, when this is over, we can get that time back, and be young and in love again, and maybe you'll be mine at nighttime too.

But war is present and calling.

Be there for me when I get back, it's what I hold onto.

You're beautiful.

Harry.


	3. Miss you, Hermione

&

Oh God. I miss you so much. I hope you're happy, and maybe one day we can talk again. I understand why you left, really I do. It was just hard for me to accept, is all. But, you know, I've had a long time to think about it all, and maybe I've over-rationalised, you know, like I do. I always do. Remember when you used to just take my homework off me, in the Head dormitory, and force me to stop working?

But what I think I'm trying to say, is that I understand. And I forgive you for injuries to my heart, and I'm so sorry about what I did to you. We were both awful, those last few weeks. Do you think we knew it was coming?

I miss you. It's been a long time now, years, and I'm not embarrassed to say that I've had lovers. But…all the while, I remember you. And I miss you.

If you want to talk, I'm still here. You know, in case.

I just wrote to say I'm still alive.

Miss you.

Hermione.


	4. A Voice in the Dark, Draco

&

Sometimes at night I'll hear your voice. When its really dark, you know, the kind of dark you love and I hate, I'll hear you. I guess its in my head, because no one else hears it. But I want you then, in the dark. Between the two of us I think we made the dark okay. Not a lover, but not an enemy. The dark was somewhere you could escape, it was somewhere to escape from for me.

I'm fissured without you. Tiny tiny cracks all over me, and I worry sometimes I'll crack into a zillion little pieces, all over my living room floor.

And then you'll know how big a mess that'll be to clear up.

I thought I'd write to say I'm still alive, just about. After all, I left you because my job was too dangerous, so I figured I'd just say I'm not dead yet, despite what I thought all those years ago. If I'd known then what I did now, I never would have given you up, let you go. But I was so deathly afraid.

Nowadays though, I hear you're doing okay. I've seen you in the papers, usually with a handsome date, though I've noticed they never stay long. Honestly, it comforts me and tears me up at the same time: comfort that maybe you need me the way I need you, and tearing sadness in that you don't seem happy. You're smiling in all the pictures, and hugging whoever your date is, but at night, well, your picture cries, sometimes, and pushes the date away.

I'd have to say I hope you miss me.

I'm not really going to send this, you know. But I started it with the same hope that tinges everything I have about you, that maybe, someday, when things are better…we can be better.

To hope is to dream, for us.

I love you, and I'm sorry for the biggest mistake of my life.

Draco


End file.
